


Dimming Light

by die_wiederkehr



Series: Gifts of Silver Light [24]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, brief mentions of Elrond and Galadriel, i hate myself for writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_wiederkehr/pseuds/die_wiederkehr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins rescue their mother from Orc captivity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dimming Light

When they found her, Celebrían was unconscious. Her clothes were torn and bloodied, she was noticeably thinner and her hair was shorn. Wounds bled freely and soaked the ground she was laying on, skin cut and peeled, evidence of the torture she’d endured. She was pale, sickly so and that concerned the twins for elves do not sicken.  
  
The sounds of battle had not stirred her, not the yelling of orcs as her sons slayed all they came upon in their search for her. Were it not for her shallow breathing and the blood that still flowed from her wounds, they would have thought her dead. Very carefully, Elladan knelt beside her and lifted her into his arms. She was so light, much lighter than he could ever have imagined the strong woman that had raised them, and still she didn’t stir. Celebrían remained limp in his arms, only the slightest pained sound coming from her lips. The brothers shared a look before Elrohir took his blade and his brothers, leading the way back through the caves and to their horses, cutting quickly through any orcs that found them.  
  
Stepping out into the sunlight, the twins moved quickly. The orcs would not follow them now but out of desperation. And their mother, they were sure, would not drive them to it. Elrohir laid a blanket down and carefully Elladan set her upon it, both searching through their travel packs for herbs and water and bandages. Anything to at least ease her pain. To this she became slowly aware.  
  
She could not remember how long she’d been in the caves. Long enough that the sun on her skin almost burned, that laying on a blanket made her skin itch and ache where she was wounded. And when they reached to tend her wounds she flinched, pain bringing her to full awareness, panic almost choking her. Her eyes were wide and fearful, unfocused. She saw not her children with her but the memory of orcs. Orcs clawing and cutting at her, laughing at her screams. From them now she tried to flee but was too weak to even raise herself from the ground, instead wrapping her arms around herself for protection, tears streaming silently down her face.  
  
“ _Naneth_.” Came the soft voice of one of the boys. Too soft to be an orc but too many times had her mind tricked her. Too many times had she hoped for help and found none. No gentle hands or voices had she known since the attack on her escort. She could not hope for them now and they could not force help on her. Not when she flinched at their touch and didn’t trust their voice.  
  
It’s a dream, she told herself. A lovely dream but nothing more. And of that she was convinced, even as they lifted her onto a horse and wrapped the blanket snugly around her, keeping the chill of a ride at bay. Behind her, Elrohir mounted his horse, arms around her and keeping her from falling for she had no strength even to sit upright.  
  
They exchanged a look, eyes dark and angry, a storm raging beneath the surface as they thought what had brought this on their mother. Their gentle mother who would sing to them, who had indulged them as they’d grown, who had always been happy to go riding with them and had given them a light kiss to the cheek before each hunt. For luck, she would tell them.  
  
Perhaps she had given them all of her luck. And now she had none left for herself. And certainly none left to give.  
  
There was no delay, no hesitation in their return home. In and out on consciousness she drifted the entire time, each taking a turn riding with her so that the other could keep his strength. They did not stop and they shielded her as best they could from wind and rain and trees. And not once did she speak, making noise only when her pain became too much to keep silent.  
  
Into Imladris they rode their horses, straight up to the house and startling those all around them. No one spoke a word to them, faces grim as they lifted the Lady from the horse and rushed her inside to their father and grandmother.


End file.
